


Time of Redemption

by erikahk



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, Drug Use, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-14
Updated: 2013-02-14
Packaged: 2017-11-29 06:31:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/683903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erikahk/pseuds/erikahk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Special Agent John Sheppard is an FBI agent set on protecting a witness. FBI!verse with John and Ronon friendship and several cameos by the other members of the team.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you drewandian (LJ) for the beta work and haruechan (LJ) for the *amazing* [art](http://high-sunday51.livejournal.com/2875.html).

John squinted in the darkness and turned his face left then right. The street was empty except for the shadow of a few women gathered at the corner and some parked vehicles. The only source of light came from that intersection and was barely able to illuminate its surroundings. He looked back at the bar he had just come from and sighed.   
    
Figuring it would be no use to just stand there waiting for someone that would never show up, he decided to start his way back to his car. Lowering his head, he avoided the women coming to him.   
    
"Hey baby, wanna have some fun?"   
    
He let her voice die out behind him, turning the corner and leaving the sidewalk to circle his car.   
    
The bar had been mostly empty and John had waited almost two hours for his contact. If he hadn't arrived yet, he wouldn't at all. It would be too risky.   
    
"Don’t move."   
    
John startled at the loud whisper close to his ear. He straightened and felt the tip of a gun against his back.   
    
"You’re late," John said.   
    
The gun pressed harder. "Did you tell them?"    
    
John raised his hands. "I didn’t do anything."   
    
He started to turn, but stopped when he felt the hole marking his spine. John swallowed.   
    
"Look, if you’re having any problems it’s not my fault. I honor my deals." John kept his voice normal.   
    
"Maybe you screwed up." The voice was little more than an angry whisper.   
    
"Believe what you want, I’m telling the truth. If I had ratted you, do you think I’d come here?"   
    
The pressure eased but was still present.   
    
"Who then?"   
    
"I don’t even know what the hell you’re talking about!" John raised his voice slightly and hoped that had been the right choice.   
    
The gun came up behind his neck.   
    
"I’m talking about the price on my head." The voice wavered slightly.   
    
"You got a price on your head?"   
    
The cold metal rested on the back of John’s head.   
    
"Yeah, know anything about that?"   
    
John felt hot breath against his neck.   
    
"I-I… No!" He showed in his voice just how offended he was by the accusation.   
    
There was silence.   
    
"I’m not suicidal, okay?" John placated.   
    
"Let’s say I believe you." That, John thought, was still slightly untruthful, since the gun was still touching the back of his head. "What can you do for me?"   
    
"If they are on you, then you’ve got nothing to lose, right?" John paused. When silence continued to stretch, he went on. "I can protect you. You can come forth with everything. They can’t kill you if they’re behind bars."   
    
"The police can’t keep me safe." The reply was very matter-of-fact. "They’ll only make things worse."   
    
"Look, Ronon, I know--"   
    
John wasn’t able to finish his sentence. Next thing he felt was his head hitting the back of his car and his arms being forced against his back. He heard the weapon click behind him and reacted instinctively. He slid one leg behind him throwing his body back to make his attacker drop. Ronon easily avoided the blow, but loosened his hold around John.   
    
John freed his arms and reached for the hand holding the gun, but had the ground swept off from him and fell on his back, breath knocked out of him. When he opened his eyes he saw the barrel coming up above his nose.   
    
John raised his arms. "Do you think they’ll just let you off the hook? Take you back and forgive a big misunderstanding? You have a dead mark! You know the Wraith never take them off!" John slowed down. "I can help you! If you come with me, I can take you to a secret place not even the SAC will know where it is." John was breathing hard while he stared deep into Ronon's eyes. "You have my word."   
    
When Ronon lowered his gun, John let out a slow deep breath. Ronon nodded then offered a hand for John to get up. John stood and rubbed his shoulder, sore from the fall.   
    
"I need to get you out of town."   
    
John heard the click before he saw anything else. He paused midstride between the rear and the driver's side of his car and squinted his eyes, turning around slowly to the source of the sound. Ronon was frozen on the sidewalk, stance rigid and ready to jump to action as he also scanned the surroundings. A hush made John snap his neck around to the opposite side of the street where he spotted two shadows moving quickly towards them. John reacted. He jumped to the side just as the figures started shooting. The bullets peppered the side of the vehicle, sparks marking the spots where they collided.   
    
John scurried to take cover at the same time he extracted his 9mil from his shoulder holster. Ronon was by his side in an instant, gun in hand and firing back. John returned fire then ducked and lowered his head around his cover to take a look at their assailants. He saw both silhouettes in a narrow alley behind a large dumpster. _Probably the bounty hunters_ , he thought. The street was too dark for John to have a clear shot and figured it would be a vain effort to continue with the gun fire.   
    
John signaled Ronon along the side of the car and unlocked the passenger door, entering the vehicle as he tried to stay down. Ronon entered behind just as John started the engine and drove off.   
    
The loud noise of a motorbike reached his ears and John glanced back long enough to spot the two dark hooded men climb on top of one to start chase. John accelerated and bent on a corner brusquely, tires screeching. He turned once more in the next intersection, but the sport bike was fast and soon caught up, staying in John’s rear mirror.   
    
Lowering his head as he saw them draw their weapons, John turned right on a red light, evading a slow old Volkswagen that was crossing the avenue. After rolling down his window completely, Ronon stood and put his head out to fire at the pursuers. The bike skidded to the side, but evaded the bullets that hit the pavement instead. That had been incredibly dangerous; there had been people on the sidewalk.   
    
"Ronon!" he yelled a warning, but it was completely ignored with more shooting.   
    
John left the busy avenue and turned another corner, his car screaming with the strain of the sudden decision. Ronon grunted as he held on tightly to the side of the car and fired a few more shots.   
    
The bike changed sides and accelerated towards them, both occupants now firing back.   
    
"Dammit!" John cursed under his breath.   
    
He had better find a way to finish this soon or people would get hurt. After turning one more time to reach a deserted street, John held tightly to the wheel then slammed his foot on the brakes. The motorbike passed them and took a few seconds until it slid sideways, one of the rider's shoes dragging on the pavement. Ronon reloaded quickly and fired at the bike that now was racing towards them. John joined in the firing and soon the motorcycle lost control and crashed on the road.   
    
They exited the car to check on the men that lay unmoving on the ground. John went first, gun at ready, watchful for any movement. He heard a soft moaning then saw a pool of blood growing on the black pavement. He knelt down and checked the pulse of the driver, but from the bloodied state of his unprotected head, John already knew he wasn't going to find any. The passenger was trying to move away from under the bike, blood tricking from his cheek and eyes squeezed in pain.   
    
"Don't move," John both warned and suggested, knowing that moving after suffering any degree of body trauma could be a bad idea, but also knowing that the guy was still an armed threat.   
    
The man complied and slumped back down. Looking up, John saw Ronon covering him with his gun, so John decided to holster his own weapon and grab his cell phone to call in the emergency.   
    
John had barely finished dialing when two other identical yellow motorcycles screeched around the corner and sped up in their direction.   
    
"Crap," John cursed as he dove to the side.   
    
Ronon had begun shooting again, his bullets hitting the side of one bike. John knelt behind his car’s opened door and fired at the attackers, his eyes growing wide when both hooded men extracted compact submachine guns and started firing. He ducked and made himself small behind the cover as Ronon hurried to join him. Both bikers passed them and John took the opportunity to make a run for it and enter his car.   
    
Ronon slammed the passenger door beside him as John started the engine. The motorcycles had turned around and were returning, their bullets hitting the pavement and the side of his car, crashing the window on his side. John drove off just as police sirens grew nearer. He looked at the mirror and saw both bikers entering a narrow dark street to escape from the red lights that approached.   
    
He finally sagged on his seat, but it took some time for the shaking and the adrenalin to fade.   
    
John made it to the covered parking lot of the local FBI headquarters building and changed the car. He had no time for the appropriate paperwork or for any explanations and hoped he would have the chance to solve it in the next day. He emptied the glove compartment and transferred its content to the new car, not wasting any time to get back on the road.  
 

+++++++++++++++ 

    
He kept his eyes on the street as he drove. Dim lights passed through on both sides and made it hard for him to keep an eye on any tails. It was too dark.   
    
Tails never turned on the lights.   
    
He glanced at the mirror every time illumination got more favorable for him to spot anything behind him, and thanks to that he was fairly sure he wasn’t being followed.   
    
That, of course, wasn’t a relief since he still had a passenger to worry about. Ronon didn’t fidget, but glanced at the side mirror sometimes. He didn’t look nervous or agitated, but John had come to know that it didn’t mean anything. The only emotion John had ever seen in Ronon were anger and aggression.   
    
Usually, that would imply a person that mostly only threatened without actually acting, but not with Ronon. His moves were always calculated and John knew from painful experiences that he shouldn’t mess with the guy. Ronon was way too fast for someone with his massive size.   
    
John decided to break the silence and demand some explanation about him almost getting killed.   
    
"Do you mind telling me what that whole thing was about?" John asked.   
    
"I’ve got a price on my head."   
    
Ronon hadn’t turned. His tone was neutral, but a voice like his could make a lot of men run away in fear.   
    
John nodded. "Okay. What else?"   
    
This time Ronon turned his head. "The Wraith set a price on my head."   
    
John turned to face him, waiting for the rest. A proper explanation was the least Ronon could do after John saved his ass back there.   
    
Ronon turned back to face the street. "That deal with the Genii. They interrogated Parrish." He paused. "He’s dead."   
    
John frowned. "You mean, Parrish, the botanist?"   
    
"Yeah. The one with the crazy plants."   
    
John bit his lip and shook his head. Parrish had helped them find hundreds of kilograms of the Inzme. He had gone underground ever since the deal went down. John had tried to track him to offer some proper protection but had been unable to.   
    
"How did they find him?"   
    
From the corner of his eye, John saw Ronon turn towards the window. "They found his girl."   
    
"He had a girl?" John asked surprised.   
    
"She was his assistant, but no one knew they were together. Or at least I thought so." He turned to John. "They’re dumped in the alley between Fourth and Washington."   
    
"How did you find out about the price?"   
    
Ronon chuckled. "Because a gang showed up to collect it. I left them behind the bar."   
    
"Dead?"   
    
John felt the intensity of Ronon’s stare. "What do you think?"   
    
John nodded and turned to Ronon. "Okay. We got to keep you safe and away from everything." John waved a hand as he explained. "This place I told you about, I never took anyone there before. No one knows it exists. I was keeping it for Parrish, but it seems he won’t be needing it anymore." He turned back to the road. "It’s out of town and it’s got all the proper defenses. No people around it. Trust me."   
    
Ronon didn’t say anything.   
 

+++++++++++++++ 

    
John decided to wait until they were far from the city to stop for some gas. He was hungry and tired and hadn't planned on going on a trip. The chase had left him wired and tense, his muscles sore. He took the long way out of town, making it difficult for anyone to know which direction he would head to and which road he would use.   
    
Ronon hadn't said a word since their conversation. John knew that Ronon didn't hover around any business that wasn't his own and his only business was his job. Since his job was _ask no questions, just do it_ , John figured Ronon wouldn't say anything any time soon. John was fine with it. If there was one thing John hated, it was a witness that talked too much. That was usually what got them into trouble in the first place.   
    
It had taken John months to finally figure out the guy had a voice. John had always known there was more going on inside his head that Ronon let on and wasn't disappointed when he had finally found out what. He had proven to be a very trustworthy ally inside the Wraith group and time and time again came up with a key piece of intel that had brought John really close of dismantling the whole thing.   
    
They had worked hard to keep Ronon in the loop of things and out of problems, but it had come close far too many times for the Wraith to remain ignorant. They had known there were snitches inside for months. It was just a matter of time before they figured it out. John could just hope the time had been enough.   
    
He couldn't help but think a large part of all this was John's fault. He had taken big risks with the use of the information provided to him and now Ronon's life was on the line because of it. The least John could do was to take him out of this mess.   
    
John saw the last flicker of light before the road ahead and eased down to it, parking the car and going out to fill it up. Ronon stayed in the car, watchful for every movement, even though there was none.   
    
John filled it up, placed the handle of the gas hose into the pump, screwed the cap back into place and rounded the car to pay up.   
    
He got back in the car with a couple of bottles of water and a few snacks. He tossed one to Ronon who proceeded to open the package right away and start munching. John threw the rest on the back seat and unwrapped a chocolate bar to eat as he drove off.   
    
It didn't take too long for the road to become completely dark. It was now merely an endless patch of black pavement cutting through lowlands and sparse forests, clear of civilization and cars, except for the occasional ones that just passed by.   
    
Three hours after that, the silence and dark became overwhelming and John started to fight against the toll of the previous night, which he had spent wide awake in bed, in addition to tonight’s fading adrenalin. His arms ached and his head hurt. John rubbed his face then glanced beside him to check on Ronon. The big guy was still in the same position he had been when they had left the city; still hard as a rock, tension beneath the seemingly calm appearance. He didn't look the slightest bit tired and was still watching the passenger window.   
    
John didn't think Ronon would be in the mood for some conversation and decided to put in some music. Johnny Cash played from the speakers, a soft rhythm rocking through the car.   
    
Somehow, John made it past the void of the road and arrived at a small village. He crossed it and aimed for the lower ground, descending a dirt road in a slow slope until sea level. The low trees and shrubbery soon made way to soft white sand with turfs of green growing here and there. He parked the car in the small sandy driveway in the back of a wooden loft.   
    
"Okay, here we are. A nice vacation spot." John smiled and looked over at Ronon.   
    
Ronon lowered his head to look at the cabin and nodded. "Looks fine."   
    
"Don't worry. No one knows this place except my boss and a couple of others. It's totally safe."   
    
Ronon turned to John. "You trust them?"   
    
"Of course I do. I wouldn't be letting you use it if I didn't. Besides, I won't tell them you're here."   
    
"What will you do?"   
    
"I'm going to hurry things up. Tell them I've got another witness instead of Parish, but I won't say in which safe house I'm keeping you."   
    
John knew Ronon would be a lot more comfortable alone than with an escort of FBI agents watching him. John knew where Ronon's loyalty was, and it wasn't with the Wraith, of that he was sure.   
    
"They'll probably have found some bodies by now and they'll be running forensics. I doubt they'll find anything, but one can only hope."   
    
Ronon glanced at the loft, then back at John.   
    
"This place has got some canned food and some stuff planted at the back. There is a place nearby where you can fish and the rod and net are in the kitchen," John continued. "It doesn't have a phone line, but a fairly good cell reception." John handed Ronon his second phone, the one he used for emergencies. "Take this but only turn it on when you use it. I'll call everyday at 6 PM, so you'll have to remember that." John bit his lips thinking about anything he might have forgotten. "I'll come by again in a few days when the smoke starts to come down."   
    
Ronon's look turned between the dark outside then back inside the vehicle. John saw the way his eyes changed even in the soft light that filtered from the car's front lights.   
    
"Thanks."   
    
"No problem." He nodded slightly. "I'll see that the Wraith do come down with your help." He turned his head to the side. "Then, I will be thanking you." He smiled.   
    
"Okay."   
    
Ronon dropped out of the car and slammed the door shut.   
    
"Hey," John called.   
    
Ronon turned and lowered himself to the window level.   
    
"You forgot this." John let the keys of the loft hang in his fingers.   
    
Ronon grabbed them with and soon disappeared inside the cabin.   
    
John checked his watch. It was still the middle of the night and he would have the full drive back in darkness. He opened a chocolate bar and started his car with the bar half bitten in between his teeth.   
    
The way back was another boring drive in darkness and silence and John found himself with the volume of the radio near the max to keep himself awake. He started to hum and didn't even see the time passing. Before he knew, daylight was breaking again and he was yawning as he parked the car in front of the local FBI headquarters building.   
    
Movement was the same as usual. Local offices of all sorts of acronyms available were mostly empty with the occasional letter mix that got them a higher level of activity. The FBI office had a handful of agents ranging from newbies to veterans and they all seemed to be going about their business, most of them delved into their computer screens and a few others discussing cases. John stopped by the coffee machine then sat at his desk, rubbing his face as he did so.   
    
"You look horrible."   
    
John looked up, hoping he hadn't flinched at the sudden voice. "Yeah, drove all night."   
    
Woolsey raised an eyebrow. "Why?"   
    
John sipped his coffee. "Did you find Parrish?"   
    
"Yes," Woolsey said as he sighed. "You knew that already?"   
    
John nodded. "I got Ronon. They're looking for him. Got a high enough price on his head to have us both being chased by a bunch of bikers using some fairly good weaponry last night."   
    
Woolsey raised an eyebrow. "Any injured?"   
    
"One of the bikers is dead, another one injured. The others ran off when the cops arrived at the scene. We need to find the injured member."   
    
"Okay, I'll coordinate with the police." He paused. "Where is Ronon?"   
    
John shook his head. "I'd prefer to keep his location a secret. For now," he added.   
    
"Very well. Do you feel he's as strong case as Parrish was?"   
    
John nodded. "Yes. He's not a specialist in the drug, but he's seen and done more inside the organization. Got a lot of field experience and can be a very good source of information once he opens up." He took a sip from his cup.   
    
"Okay, I guess this price on his head came with good timing."   
    
John stopped himself from rubbing his sandy eyes. "How long till we don't have to worry about it?"   
    
"Well, the Department of Justice will go ahead with it if you guarantee a witness. I was about to call them and tell we don't have one."   
    
John sat back on his chair. "I guess I arrived right on time then."   
    
Woolsey stared for a moment.   
    
"What?" John shook his head.   
    
"You really do look awful," he said before turning around and going inside his office.   
    
John shook his head wondering if he looked half as bad as he felt. He sipped more of the coffee and started rummaging through his drawers to see if he could find an aspirin. He had just found the miraculous white pill when a touch on his shoulder nearly made him jump out of his body.   
    
"Sorry. I didn't mean to..." McKay waved his hand around.   
    
"You shouldn't sneak behind a guy that hasn't slept in two days."   
    
"You're kidding, right? Please tell me you're kidding." McKay was grinning.   
    
"That's not funny." John swallowed his pill with the rest of coffee.   
    
"How can you stay two nights without sleep when our case is gone to hell with boringness?" McKay said as he rounded John's desk to sit on his own one.   
    
"First, bad luck with a lousy neighbor and second, I didn't sleep the whole night because I was saving our case. And getting shot at in the process."   
    
McKay shot an eyebrow up. "Really?"   
    
"Yeah." John leaned forward in the desk. "Ronon is in a safe house. He's going to testify."   
    
McKay grinned. "That's great! How did you do that?"   
    
John shrugged. "Just offered him a safe house for him to stay and keep away from those bounty hunters after his head."   
    
"Okay, back up here." McKay waved a hand. "What bounty hunters?"   
    
John leaned back and stretched his legs. "The Wraith found out he was our informant. Probably through Parrish." He stretched his arms above his head. "Ronon killed a few of them last night before we met and asked for help."   
    
"He asked for help?"   
    
"Well, as close as he'll ever get. Gave me some bruises too." He rubbed his face. "That's when the bikers showed up shooting at us. We got away and I drove all night."   
    
"You're okay, right?"   
    
"I'm fine."   
    
"Why do I always miss these things?" McKay turned his head.   
    
John smiled. "You'd have complained if you had been shot at."   
    
"That's true." McKay nodded. "So, where are we?" He flourished a hand. "We have no specialist," he started as he counted in his fingers, "no samples of the new drug or any formulas and schematics, but we got one inside gun-ho guy?"   
    
"Yeah, but Ronon knows their hot spots and can testify for us on all the crimes they ordered and committed in his presence. You know what that means?" John leaned forward. "It means numerous murder accusations and instances of torture, abuse, coercion to the use of illegal substances… you name it."   
    
McKay's look turned inwards for a moment. "Mmm, do you think they'll go for all that?"   
    
"Well, there is no way they'll refuse all the accusations. If the boss goes solely for the Parrish murder, we're already facing a very good charge. We know she had a personal hand in that." John pointed with his coffee cup.   
    
The Wraith operation was led by only one person that was known to everyone as The Queen. No one knew her name, but she had a special liking in toying, torturing and killing the biggest trouble makers in person. If they could get her behind bars, their entire organization would fall apart. Most of the men under her were dumb drones.   
    
"Okay, what's the plan then?"   
    
John tilted his head. "We have to get everything organized. We'll have to go through everything that we have and check for viability--"   
    
"And switch our complete plan of action from Parrish to Ronon, go through all the stuff we left aside for lack of proof and redo all the work we did in the last few months." McKay sighed. "That's going to suck."   
    
John smirked. "Yes, well, you knew the job when you signed up." 

"Did I?"   
 

+++++++++++++++ 

    
Ronon slouched on the couch and stared out of the window. The sun was now up and bright; the heat of late spring was beginning to permeate the salty air and accentuated his exhausted bones. He hadn't rested the previous night. Tiredness was seeping from his pores, but he couldn't force his eyes to close. They always snapped open from the tension all over him.   
    
Deciding it would be no use to just sit around brooding over the situation, Ronon got up and headed outside to make use of all that energy. Now that the sun had risen, Ronon could explore the surrounding area.   
    
The cabin was right in the middle of nowhere, vast plains of sand and low bushes extending on all sides. Trees accumulated here and there except where Ronon figured the ocean was supposed to be. He headed up the dirt road that didn't seem like it was used often. The only track marks digging into the thin earth were of the car Sheppard had driven.   
    
He walked a couple hundred meters until he decided to head inland and into the woods at the road's edge. The forest had dense seashore vegetation, mostly low bushes interspaced with trees. Ronon tried not to disturb the natural cover as he went further inside.   
    
Movement started to get progressively more difficult as he reached wetland. It went as deep as his ankle and very soon he saw himself at the margins of a large pond. Trees became sparse after the body of water, but still partly immersed. Ronon decided to turn around and head back, now aiming towards the beach.   
    
By the time he reached it, his wet pants had stopped dripping and his sneakers were a mess of sloshy sand accumulated at the bottom.   
    
The sound of waves slowly breaking onto shore and the sight of blue water and white sand made him take a deep breath. The beach was deserted and didn’t extend very far before it entered inside the vegetation, but it was big enough for Ronon to walk along it for a few minutes and explore the land, hiding spots and more dangerous locations.   
    
It reminded him of his childhood, running around the sand all day with his brothers, digging to find hidden treasures, swimming and walking the forests pretending they were soldiers on a secret mission. Thinking about them made Ronon’s chest tighten in a mixture of solitude, anger and guilt. He focused on his good memories; the time when he had learned how to surf, the smell of his mother’s pie, his grandmother’s cake, his sister’s laughter and the adventures he and his brothers used to have.   
    
It had been a simple, yet happy childhood, full of innocence and dreams. Never would he have imagined how it would end.   
    
Young hearts were a hard thing to ignore. Ronon had listened to his and the decision had resulted in such a large bloodshed that Ronon still found himself soaked in it.   
    
He was soaked in it. Grief and revenge had taken the best of him and before he had known, he was already so deep inside that world he had never thought he would be able to get out alive. He still didn't know.   
    
The promise he had made was long ago lost in a series of crimes seen and committed to no result. Revenge hadn't been done. Only survival mattered. Ronon gritted his teeth and made a new promise. He would do the right thing this time.   
    
He headed back, the midday sun burning his shoulders. This time, when he got back to the loft, he put his head down onto the pillow and swore he would end what had started seven years ago. He would finally honor his family.   
 

+++++++++++++++ 

    
_"Ronon!”  
    
Ronon didn’t turn around and continued to throw clothes inside the bag. “Do you know how hard it was to get here?”   
    
“I know, Ronon.” Melena held his arm. “But I can’t leave now after everything I saw!”   
    
Ronon turned around. “They won’t kill you, I will protect you.”   
    
“You can’t protect me from them. Kell will hunt us down for the rest of our lives!” Her voice was soft but had the prick edge of certainty.   
    
“No, he won’t.” Ronon turned around and zipped the bag.   
    
“What are you going to do?”   
    
Ronon didn’t respond and walked out her bedroom carrying the bag. She grasped his arm and forced him to turn and face her.   
    
“You can’t!” Her face was hard. “You’re not a Marine yet and even if you were, it would destroy your life!”   
    
“I won’t let him destroy your life,” he growled. “I’ll do whatever it takes. We’re talking about criminals, Melena!”   
    
“You’ll be killed!” Her voice was now sharp with anger. “Let the police handle them.”   
    
“The police have been handling them for years! Until they do something, you’ll be walking out in a body bag! You know how his temperament goes! What do you think he’ll do now that he knows about us?”   
    
“You don’t have to go. Let me face him and I’ll do what it takes to get myself out.”   
    
Ronon turned around and continued to walk out of her apartment. “I won’t risk your life. You’ll come with me and hide until things are settled.” _  
 

+++++++++++++++ 

    
Ronon woke up with the roar of thunder. He looked out the window and saw the darkened clouds of rain filling the sky and no sign of the sun that should still be shining behind the gray mass. Looking at his watch, Ronon saw it was early evening and decided to get up to take a shower. He opened the drawer from the only piece of furniture the bedroom had other than the small bed. The dresser had only a few clothes, most too short or too tight for him. He picked the biggest sized tee-shirt which seemed that would fit just barely, but saw no underwear or pants that would fit his waist.   
    
He rummaged through all the drawers, mostly having one change of clothes of each gender and seemed to be separated by sizes. The lowest drawer had the biggest sizes. Finally, he had one change of clothes that seemed close enough to him.   
    
The shower was quick. He exited the bathroom refreshed and more relaxed. Looking at the watch he had left on the coffee table, he noticed it was almost time to turn on his phone.   
    
Rain started peppering at that moment, becoming heavy and angry in a matter of seconds. Grabbing his cell phone, Ronon headed towards the kitchen. He took a tomato he had collected that morning from the bush outside and washed it. He took a large bite, making juice flow down his chin, then opened the small wooden cabinet to get a can of soup and another of meat.   
    
The pot hadn’t yet started boiling when he heard the vibration of the phone over the table. He looked at the caller ID and saw a non-identified number.   
    
He flipped it open. "Yes?"   
    
"Hey, Ronon, it’s Sheppard. How’s it going?"   
    
Ronon shrugged. "Okay."   
    
"Look, I’ve got things settled. You’ll probably have to wait a few weeks until the whole thing is set up, but it is going down. In the meantime, do you need anything?"   
    
"Yeah, clothes that fit me."   
    
Sheppard chuckled on the other side. "I’ll see about that. Anything else?"   
    
"Not really."   
    
"I’ll be going there in a couple of days, so hang on until then. I’ll take you some clothes and food, and you’d better not go anywhere. Stay away from people in general."   
    
"I know that," Ronon said a little bluntly.   
    
"Right." There was a brief silence. "We’ll discuss everything better when we see each other in person."   
    
"Okay."   
    
Sheppard hung up and Ronon turned off the phone, going back to his now warm dinner.   
 

+++++++++++++++ 

    
John’s head shot up, bleary eyes blinking away the curtain of sleep. He looked behind him and saw the blur of the person responsible for waking him up. John narrowed his eyes until the image settled then snatched the piece of paper glued to his forehead.   
    
"What, McKay?" he asked a bit annoyed.   
    
McKay shook his head. "I don’t know why you just don’t go home to rest."   
    
"Can’t." John rubbed his face. "Too much going on."   
    
"Oh, yeah." McKay crossed his arms. "So much going on you decided to take a nap on your keyboard."   
    
"Is there a reason you woke me?"   
    
"As a matter of fact, yes, there is." McKay waved a thumb over his shoulder. "Woolsey got the word back from the police. They’ve got your biker in the hospital."   
    
"Oh, great." John rose from his seat and grabbed his suit jacket on the back of his chair. "Let’s go, then."   
    
Tampa wasn’t a small city. Some percentage of it was water, but there was enough land to make it the county seat for Hillsborough County and the 53rd largest city in the US, as John noted from living there for nearly four years. This meant it had many hospitals. John figured it was close to twenty, which was the reason they had needed help from the police to locate the criminal they must have arrested the previous night. No need to run around asking questions when all they needed was a phone call to the right department.   
    
John parked the car on Tampa General Hospital and went up a flight of stairs to the secured room that had been indicated by the receptionist. It was being guarded by two uniformed cops who let John and McKay in as soon as they showed their badges.   
    
According to the police report, the biker was called Steven Fernandez, the family was from Mexico, but he was born in the US; young, early twenties, had a number of charges mostly involving drugs and weapons but had never been arrested.   
    
John entered the room and found Fernandez propped up by fluffy pillows, half of his face red and purple, several scratches covered by dried blood and his leg suspended in a cast.   
    
"Hi, Steve, I’m Special Agent John Sheppard," John said as he flashed his credential then waved at McKay on his side. "This is my partner, Special Agent McKay."   
    
Fernandez face hardened. "I already told my story to the police."   
    
John smirked. "We’re not with the police, we are FBI." He put his badge on his inner suit pocket.   
    
Fernandez eyed John for a while before his eyes narrowed. "And what do you want with me?"   
    
"I think you know that already."   
    
The man’s jaw tensed. "I won’t speak to you." He turned to face the wall.   
    
"Okay, then just listen. You already have enough accusations as it is, and they’ll multiply as soon as you’re out of the hospital."   
    
He looked back at John. "Is that a threat?"   
    
"I don’t make threats," John said with a hardened voice. "You shot at a federal agent and endangered the lives of civilians. Now, you can help yourself by telling me about the bounty, or you can face the charge and take the full blunt for your pals."   
    
McKay crossed his arms. "Do you think they’ll bother to help you out? They left you there to your own screwed up fate."   
    
Fernandez’s face broke for a millisecond before he tried to put the tough façade back on. Too late;John had seen inside him and now only had to continue to put on pressure.   
    
"Okay," John continued. "Here’s what we know. You’re just a tiny man at the far end of the criminal world. You’ve been selling dope on dark corners ever since you've dropped school at fifteen. You're nothing to them and you're nothing to us. You only have things to lose. Either way you're biting, so why don't you help yourself and take a few of those years from that sentence?"   
    
Fernandez didn't answer and just looked away at the wall.   
    
"How do you go from giving out small packs to shooting at federal agents?" McKay put his hands on his pockets. "My guess, you wanted quick and easy money and had no idea what you were getting yourself into." He paused. "How close am I?"   
    
Fernandez turned around. "All right. I just heard chinning in the streets. Someone that needed to be bumped off for large dough."   
    
"And the fat reward was very little warning on how big it was?" McKay asked condescendingly.   
    
"Like you said, last man of the pack. It was my big chance."   
    
"Who did you hear it from?" John asked.   
    
Fernandez sighed. "I don't know'em. We don't do business. They deal only with good stuff."   
    
"So, they're way over your league, what else?" John prompted.   
    
"They were just spreading the word. I think the guy was spilling or something." He shrugged.   
    
John nodded. "And?"   
    
"And what? I already told you!" He raised his hand in frustration.   
    
"How did you know where he would be?"   
    
"The guy musta gotten the bum's rush, but the high pillows didn't tell. They gave us the rap."   
    
John smiled. "See? That wasn't so hard." He turned around and left the room.   
    
"Okay," McKay started in a soft voice as they walked down the hall. "So they figure Ronon is ratting and decide to cut him. Instead of getting their own hands dirty, they spread the word around the streets for some small gang to take him out? Why?"   
    
John turned and started climbing down the stairs. "They must have set a high price. In the few minutes Ronon was there, six or seven different guys from two different gangs showed up. The Wraith obviously didn't want him walking around freely."   
    
McKay nodded. "Hmm, no matter where he goes, if there's civilization, he'll be bummed."   
    
"Exactly. The Wraith can reach far enough to make his life difficult."   
    
"He's well hidden, right?" McKay asked as they left the hospital into the parking lot.   
    
"Yeah, he is." John took out his keys and opened the door. "And it reminds me that it's almost time to call him." John slammed the door and picked up his phone.   
    
The rest of the day went by in a haze of reading, analyzing, discussing, more reading, and the usual amount of snarking. John was sure there must have been a few minutes of dozing off in between some of those activities, but they didn't last long enough. Before he knew, it was already very late, his stomach was growling and his eyes were refusing to stay open.   
    
"Okay, I've had it. I'm going home." McKay rubbed his face. "And you should too."   
    
John slouched back. "Yeah." He yawned. "Boy, is this going to take a while."   
    
"You know, this would go a lot quicker if Ronon simply told us where she hides. We could trot in, get her with her hands dirty and lock her up."   
    
"If only…" John got up, not wanting to have the same discussion again.   
    
McKay stood as well. "How do you know he's telling the truth about not knowing where she is?"   
    
"We talked about this. I trust him;he said she could be in a dozen different locations;I believe him."   
    
They started making their way out of the office. "Yeah, but why doesn't he check?"   
    
"First, he can't now with a price on his head. Second, he tried. Third, he was about to tell me the secret code when we got shot at." Damn. John was really getting slow. He should have asked him.   
    
"Aha, so he knows!" McKay waved a pointed finger.   
    
John sighed. "Maybe, he didn't tell, we got distracted. I'll ask him tomorrow when I call him."   
    
McKay exhaled.   
    
"What?"   
    
"Nothing."   
    
"Look, McKay, I really do trust him. He's a good guy." They entered the elevator.   
    
"If he's such a good guy then what is he doing inside a criminal organization?"   
    
"Everyone makes mistakes. Maybe he didn't have a choice."   
    
When the elevator reached the parking, McKay stopped by the door and faced John. "You really do trust him?"   
    
"Yeah. Look at how far we are. We're practically ready to arrest them all. We wouldn't have gotten this far without him."   
    
McKay nodded and waved as he went towards where his car was parked. "Okay, see you tomorrow."   
    
"See you."   
    
John practically didn't see his way back home. He just picked up a cheeseburger to eat in traffic then crashed on his bed. He didn't even bother with removing his clothes or the loud neighbor's newborn baby screaming its lungs out.   
    
He woke up not long afterwards with a hand over his mouth and his heart hammering in desperation and confusion. He tried to move and discovered he was being pressed face down against his own bed.   
    
"Don't move."   
    
The voice was as rough as the hands holding him in place. The weight on his bed shifted and John's face was buried in his pillow. Deprived of air, John's arms tried to flail without success. John gasped a lungful of nothing, jerking his body desperately but only succeeding in making the assailants hold him tighter. Sleep lured him again, but John fought as long as he could, yanking, tugging and pulling until his body began to relax and his eyes closed despite his efforts.   
    
When he opened them again he was sitting on a chair, his hands cuffed behind him. He lolled his head to the side, trying to get a glimpse of his surroundings. In the darkness, he recognized his bedroom carpet and the legs of his kitchen chair. A pair of brown leather boots appeared in his line of sight and John raised his head slowly to look at to whom they belonged.   
    
He saw a light brown colored man faintly illuminated by the slit of street light that filtered through the curtains and another one farther in the back leaning against the wall. They wore dark vests and jeans and John recognized the tattoo in the middle of their chests.   
    
John chuckled. "Wow, isn't that stupid."   
    
"What is stupid? Being caught on your bed?" The man took a blade out of his pocket and touched John's chin with the tip.   
    
John raised his head to avoid it. "No. Capturing a federal agent is."   
    
"We're not afraid of your kind." He smiled and began circling the chair. "All I need to know is where you dumped our dead meat."   
    
"I don't know what you're talking about."   
    
John's neck popped when his head was jerked back by a violent hair pull. "I'm talking about Ronon, but you already know that." John felt hot breath on his neck. "The guy you ran away with last night."   
    
John tightened his lips. They had somehow targeted him when he was with Ronon. How they were able to put a name and an address to his face was still unknown, but not unexpected. The Wraith were very resourceful.   
    
"What makes you think I'm gonna tell where he is?"   
    
The hot breath now came on the other side. "I don't need you to," he said before a hard knock on the back of John's head made sparks explode behind his eyes.   
    
John was unconscious before his head hit his chest.   
 

+++++++++++++++ 


	2. Chapter 2

_Ronon cried out in rage as he punched the wall again, again and again until blood was seeping out of his knuckles and he still didn’t stop. He screamed at the top of his lungs as pain tightened his chest until there was no air left and his voice died out in the air.  
   
Ronon stood there, breathing hard as his eyes swelled. He felt a soft touch on his back and backed towards it, her hands finally encircling his body to embrace him. Ronon melted in her arms, tears sploshing on the red stains of the carpet.  
   
She held him and cried as well, her sobs mixing with his. _  
 

+++++++++++++++ 

   
John regained consciousness with a headache pounding in his skull. He rolled his head as his eyes slowly opened and saw a blur of gray shadows. He was still sitting on a hard chair, but he had been moved somewhere else. His arms were tied to the arms of the chair, wrists so tightly bound his hands were numb. It was dark, but he didn't know if it was still night.  
   
The large warehouse-like space didn't have anyone visibly around. John narrowed his eyes, trying to get a glimpse inside the large shadows, trying to keep his apprehension at manageable levels. Nothing leaped to sight, so John decided to focus at the ropes digging through his wrists. He tried moving his hands, but couldn't even shift their position. He bit his lips and continued his attempts, feeling the burn marks slicing his skin.  
   
"They won't bulge."  
   
John froze then slowly raised his head as the female voice continued to speak behind him.  
   
"You'll only damage yourself with these futile attempts." Her voice was calm and sleek, but it hissed slightly at the end.  
   
"Glad you worry about that." John said sarcastically. "You wouldn’t mind cutting them loose, would you?"  
   
She chuckled. "You are an interesting one." John heard her walking, high heels echoing in the large room. "Do not worry. I have no intentions to kill you if you cooperate."  
   
"And what makes you think I'm going to?"  
   
If there was one thing John was good at, it was antagonizing people. Maybe doing so to bad guys that had you tied up wasn't the wisest decision, but John wasn't exactly known for those. His reputation wasn't always fair to his actions, far from that actually, but he liked being underestimated.  
   
"Defiance has the sweetest taste of all."  
   
She touched the base of John's neck with the tip of a nail then brushed it along the back of his skull until it traced his jaw line. She appeared at the edge of his line of vision but not enough for him to see her and grasped his chin to keep his head immobile. He tried to jerk her off, but her grip was firm.  
   
"It makes a much better prey when it's finally broken."  
   
John didn't sense a bluff or any waiver in her voice. She was deadly serious and even sounded like she was enjoying the foreplay. He controlled his breathing and wished he could control his hammering heart as well.  
   
"Well, I'd hate to disappoint you, but that's not gonna happen." John's voice had a sharp edge that showed his confidence. "I'm pretty hard to break. Besides, there'll be people looking for me real soon and I'm sure your goons must have left plenty of clues for them to follow."  
   
She let go of his face and started walking slowly behind his chair. "I'm sure they did as instructed." Her heels tapped left to right. "I surely hope they do come, John. You'll have no use if they don't."  
   
John narrowed his eyes. "Really?" He swallowed to remove the slight waver in his voice. "Would you mind clearing that up to me?"  
   
 _Toc… toc… toc… toc…_ "All in due time." She now moved right to left. "Meanwhile…" _Toc… toc… toc…_ "I will try to use the time we have together."  
   
John tilted his head to get a better sense of her and braced himself for whatever was coming. His mind worked on several probable scenarios ranging from simple interrogation to all kinds of torture.  
   
He didn't expect to hear her walk away and leave him alone in the dark. Instead of relieved, John found himself getting tenser than before. He heard more footsteps, this time softer, but coming in pairs. He swallowed as they approached the back of his chair then raised his head when they circled around.  
   
The two men were wearing dark clothes, but what jumped to his attention was the fact that one of them was holding a syringe and the other one a rubber tourniquet. The men were smirking and that was the cue for his heart to start hammering in dangerous levels and his breathing to hitch up a few notches. The guy wrapped the tourniquet around his bicep while the other grabbed John’s arm and removed the cap of the needle.  
   
John twisted in the frame of the chair, ropes digging and burning until blood started to drip. John dug his nails in his palm as the needle broke the skin and whatever was inside the barrel slowly started to run in his veins.  
   
The effect took only a few seconds to start. His body started to burn up and he began to sweat profusely. His heart rate climbed even more and his lungs didn’t seem like they were getting enough air. He hyperventilated, panicking and turning his head from one side to the other until his chest seemed to become a bit more cooperative and started sucking in larger gulps of air.  
   
Pretty soon his head felt too heavy and rolled to his chest, his whole body relaxing to the point John felt they were one with the chair. Shadows moved around and John was pretty sure he was supposed to know what was going on, but a haze fell over his mind and left him floating in cotton.  
   
The world spun as he drifted in the air, flying high in the sky. It must have been night, because John didn’t spot any clouds or birds and it must have been overcast because he didn’t see any stars either. Still, he was floating in mid air, breeze cooling him off. He smiled as he let his eyes slide close, pretty colors now filling the sky.  
 

+++++++++++++++ 

   
Ronon eyed the phone suspiciously as he read the message that had popped up the second he'd turned it on. A non-identified number had called him three times during the day with several minutes interval between each other. Ronon checked his watch. It was five past six; Sheppard should be calling him any minute now and Ronon would be able to figure out if the calls belonged to him.  
   
He wondered if Sheppard would have called him if he had run into trouble. He soon shook his head. Sheppard had been the one to tell Ronon to leave the phone turned off. He also had been the one to give him the phone, so he must have known that nobody else would call on this number. That left Ronon with an uneasy feeling.  
   
Minutes ticked by and the cell didn’t ring. Ronon slouched in the chair and stared at the phone on the coffee table as if his will alone would make it vibrate. He stood up and started pacing.  
   
When seven o’clock turned without any receiving calls, Ronon was full on worried. He pondered if he should leave the phone on or turn it off. Sheppard hadn’t mentioned any plans on the occasion he missed a call. Ronon had worked with him several times from inside the group to know Sheppard _always_ kept his word. He had never been late for any operation or secret meeting.  
   
Something must have happened.  
   
He watched the numbers tick, then paced, grunted, watched the clock, then the watch, then the visor of the cell, just to go back to walking around and pace. When two hours went by without any calls, he switched off the phone.  
   
He was about to make a round in the surrounding area, when he heard an engine approaching. Ronon hurried to the window and hid himself against the wall to peek through the curtain. Maybe the reason Sheppard hadn’t called was because he was coming by for a visit. Ronon shook his head. Sheppard would have called regardless. He would have warned him.  
   
Ronon picked up his gun and unclipped it. He only had a few bullets left. He should have asked Sheppard for more ammo. He clipped it again, switched the safety off and clicked it. He opened a slit of the curtain with the barrel when he heard the car stop in front of the house. The sun was still setting and the car lights turned off at the same time as the engine.  
   
He narrowed his eyes when he saw two people inside the vehicle. No way Sheppard was one of them. They slammed the doors behind them and walked onto the front porch. Ronon retreated to the kitchen, silently closing all the curtains. He knelt behind the door that led to the living room, watching the the front door from the slit between the door and its frame. There were two knocks on the door, followed by a couple more.  
   
"Ronon?" a female voice called. "Ronon, we are special agents for the FBI. We work with John Sheppard. Are you there?"  
   
Ronon narrowed his eyes and cocked his gun. Sheppard wouldn’t send anyone else to check on him.  
   
"Ronon, we believe that John Sheppard may be in danger. We have not heard from him since yesterday night. Please, let us in."  
   
Ronon remained quiet. He heard whispering, but it was too low for him to distinguish what was being said. Footsteps went around the loft while the other person stood in front. A few hard knocks on the kitchen back door made Ronon snap his head around.  
   
"Hey, let us in. We know you're in there." This time it was a male voice. "If we were bad guys, do you think we would knock?"  
   
Ronon agreed that anyone bent on collecting the bounty would simply break in and enter, but he wasn't about to push his luck. His senses were sharp and his instincts screaming there was something wrong. Why were these people here and not Sheppard?  
   
"Ronon," the woman said. "We will slip our credentials under the door."  
   
A few seconds afterwards, he saw the open credential sliding under the kitchen door and heard the other one being slipped under the living room door. Ronon stretched his neck from behind his position to have a look, but all he managed to see were the big bold letters on top.  
   
He decided to leave his concealment and picked up the identification closest to him. It was from someone called McKay. Ronon coiled next to the frame and slowly unlocked it, but didn't open it. He cocked his weapon and waited until the door opened.  
   
It creaked open and Ronon waited for the person to step through before he pounced, grabbing his neck and pointing a gun to his temple.  
   
The man twitched and raised both hands. "Hey, hey, hey, I'm the good guy here!"  
   
Footsteps circled the house and Ronon had time to turn around and put the man in between door and himself. A woman dressed completely in black appeared through the door, 9 millimeter in hand and pointed at him.  
   
"I am Special Agent Teyla Emmagan and I am not here to hurt you," she said slowly. "You will release my partner now and I will lower my weapon."  
   
"Yeah, you first," Ronon snarled.  
   
She raised both hands and put her gun on the ground. "Now, will you trust us?"  
   
Ronon took his gun away from McKay's head, but didn't release him. He searched his body and confiscated the man’s gun then slowly released him. McKay walked away, rubbing his neck.  
   
"I had already showed you my badge, why the hell did you need to do that for?" McKay complained loudly.  
   
"Rodney," Emmagan warned as she placed a hand on his arm.  
   
Ronon picked up the gun she had left on the ground outside, then entered and closed the door. He kept his gun raised and put the two others on his waist inside his pants.  
   
"Okay, what are you guys doing here?"  
   
"We understand your suspicion, Ronon," Emmagan started as she stepped forward. She was dressed in black formal clothes, sharply pressed and tight around her hips and chest. "We need your help. Sheppard was captured from his apartment last night and his captors left a Wraith mark behind."  
   
Ronon gritted his teeth. He knew the tactic way too well and way too close. The Wraith were trying to flush him out.  
   
"We went by all of the probable safe houses in the area until we found you."  
   
"It took us the whole day to do that," McKay added. "We didn't have anything else to follow. The people that took him didn't leave any prints, DNA or any clues beside their calling card."  
   
That was typical Wraith work. They had pros doing that kind of service. Ronon even knew the probable men she must have put to the task. Smith and Martinez were the top ones for such a high profile capture.  
   
Anger boiled up under his skin. Sheppard had been trying to help him and it only made the Wratih target him. Ronon should have known they would do this. It was his fault.  
   
The fact that the Wraith was doing this meant that Sheppard was most probably still alive. And also explained the calls his phone had received while it had been turned off. They must have been calling numbers in Sheppard's cell in an attempt to find him and rub it on his face.  
   
"Do you know how to find him?" the woman asked.  
   
Oh, yes, he did. He would have to check a few places, but he would most certainly find them. He wouldn't let Sheppard go down in his place. It was Ronon's time to do the right thing now. Sheppard was a good man. He had kept every promise he had made, even when he’d had no reason to trust Ronon. He had followed every clue and intel Ronon had provided and had never failed to protect him while he had been inside. Ronon owed him.   
   
He glanced at the two agents. He didn’t know them, he didn’t trust them yet and they would certainly slow him down. But he also needed a car to get where he needed to go and he was in the middle of nowhere.  
   
"Yeah," he finally answered.  
   
"So?" McKay waved a hand around in rapid movements. "Care to share that small piece of intel?"  
   
"We need to go back to Tampa." He said as he turned around and exited the loft.  
   
He didn't bother looking back and soon heard them following him to the car. He waited until they unlocked it to enter and waited in the back seat.  
   
"Uh, do you mind giving back our guns?" McKay asked after he sat in the driver's seat.  
   
"Yeah, I mind." Ronon turned his head to look at the window and closed the matter.  
 

+++++++++++++++ 

   
Rodney shifted in his seat as he drove the car. Silence had fallen ever since they had left the loft and was making him very uncomfortable. Their passenger hadn't shared a word about anything and just continued at the very same position he had been for the last hour.  
   
Something in the guy's body language put Rodney on edge. The man was a reckless act waiting to happen. Rodney saw a lot of muscles and, by the way Rodney's neck was still sore, the man knew how to use them.  
   
Years on the job plus the academy training had taught Rodney a few things about field work. It wasn't exactly his strength; Rodney had joined simply to stay behind a computer cracking codes and mysteries. Regardless of that, it seemed everyone needed to learn everything. Rodney had been put in a few offices across the States until he ended up in Florida, to heating temperatures and a burning sun that had him making a stock of sunblock. He had known it then that it wouldn't end well.  
   
Before he had noticed the direction his career was headed in, Rodney saw himself working with a field squad alongside Sheppard and Teyla and ended up spending less time in the office than he would have liked. Still, they knew where his strength lay and didn't always drag him from inside the air conditioned office. When they did, it was usually some lighter stuff or something that required his expertise. He still never failed to demonstrate his unhappiness with it.  
   
He loved his job the way it was supposed to be. Being all safe behind a desk.  
   
When Rodney had to face the fact that field work meant talking to people, he had been threatened by both of his co-workers in a joint mission with the SAC to go back to the manuals and remember the things one was not supposed to say to victims and suspects. More than a few times Rodney had been elbowed and had his toes stepped on until he had eventually learned it was best not to speak at all. It took a few years, but now some of these things were almost natural.  
   
Almost.  
   
Rodney didn't need so much of that experience to read Ronon. Rodney had been bullied a few times in his life to know what a bully looked like. And Ronon looked like one. Rodney's still sore neck confirmed it. However, Rodney was also inclined to take in consideration the fact that Ronon hadn't choked him. And even though Ronon still had their weapons, neither Rodney or Teyla had been shot yet.  
   
And that's when it clicked Rodney that Ronon wasn't angry at them. He was angry at the Wraith. He was angry at the situation. Sheppard trusted Ronon. He had never explained to Rodney what had made him believe in the guy in the first place or why the hell he thought Ronon had good intentions, but the fact remained. Sheppard trusted Ronon and Rodney trusted Sheppard. It didn't make Rodney trust Ronon as much as Sheppard did, or as much as Rodney trusted Sheppard, but it gave him enough of an edge.  
   
Ronon was pissed that Sheppard had been taken in his place.  
   
Rodney glanced at the mirror one more time. This time, he noticed tense muscles and the clenched jaw. A reckless act waiting to happen.  
   
Teyla glanced back at almost the same time. Rodney shared a look with her. Did she know it too? Probably. Teyla always knew. Sometimes Rodney wondered if she could read minds.  
   
"Ronon," she started. "Do you have a plan of action once we get there?"  
   
Rodney waited for an answer that didn't arrive. The silence was uncomfortable.  
   
"You know it's a trap, right?" Rodney added to her question.  
   
"Yeah."  
   
Rodney looked at the mirror. "So, this brings us the question. Do you have a plan of action?"  
   
Ronon turned away from the window. "If they want me, that's what they'll get."  
   
"Ronon," Teyla said, her voice calm. "Do you not think it would be wiser to formulate a plan of action in conjunction with the efforts of the FBI? If you go alone, you will only be doing what they want you to. You will be giving them what they want."  
   
Rodney smiled. Yes, she knew. When he glanced back to Ronon, he was back to staring outside.  
   
"They'll make sure I go alone. It would be dangerous to Sheppard's life."  
   
"Will they keep him alive?" Rodney asked. "I mean, will they kill him only to get to you?"  
   
Ronon kept silent for a few long moments.  
   
"If they do, they'll regret it."  
   
"Ronon, you cannot do this alone." Teyla turned around to look at him. "They will kill you."  
   
Ronon didn't respond.  
   
"What good will you be to Sheppard if you die in a crazy attempt of revenge, huh?"  
   
"I won't."  
   
"We cannot let you do this." Teyla's voice was soft.  
   
"You can't stop me."  
 

+++++++++++++++ 

   
 _Water dropped and its splatter cleared a dot among all the red. The dress was perfectly white everywhere else. Ronon caressed his sister’s face, leaving behind a smear of blood. He closed her eyes and let her head rest back on the pillow.  
   
Kell had done it. He was trying to get to him.  
   
And he had succeeded.  
   
Ronon stood up and exited his family's house. There was only one way to get to Kell. And Ronon would get there. _  
 

+++++++++++++++ 

   
Ronon spent the rest of the trip in silence and concentrated on the burning under his skin. The desire to do something besides sitting in a moving car was becoming overwhelming, but there was nothing he could do. He stored that energy, waiting to use it against the right target.  
   
The long trip gave the FBI agents opportunities to try and talk to him, and Ronon pondered on their words. Ronon wasn’t stupid. He knew what his chances of infiltrating any Wraith building were. He liked having backup, but he needed to know they could be trusted and that everyone would work together with that same trust. He didn’t know these agents and that was a problem.  
   
Sheppard was probably being held in one of the underground bases because it meant limited entrances. It would be heavily guarded, but not in any obvious ways that would draw attention. The Wraith also had security cameras everywhere and motion detectors. Entering without being seen was going to be a problem. Ronon could deal with the guards, but technology was an issue. He would certainly be seen by the cameras.  
   
Ronon stared out of the window as he remembered the layout used on most of their buildings.  
 

+++++++++++++++ 

   
 _Ronon made it inside the large deposit and aimed a gun at its unique occupant.  
   
“Where is he?” Ronon snarled.  
   
“Here,” came a voice from the far wall.  
   
Ronon turned around, the anger on his face dropping momentarily when he saw her being released from Kell’s arms falling on the floor like a rag doll. Fury crept back inside Ronon, leaking out of every fiber in his body. He was about to bolt forward when he heard the click of two guns.  
   
“She may still be saved if you follow my orders. There is a new load of dope from this group called The Wraith. The deal is: I’ll keep her alive if you manage to infiltrate the organization and get close to their boss to feed me information. After you give me enough information and I get the entire load, I’ll not only release her, but also give back evidence so the police can get to real murderer of your family. You’ll be clean to the justice’s eyes and can live your life happily with the slut.”  
   
“Of course you won’t.” Ronon sneered.  
   
Kell raised his gun and aimed at her head. “I could finish it right here and now.”  
   
Ronon stared. “I don’t trust your word.”  
   
Kell clicked his gun. “Do we have a deal?” _  
 

+++++++++++++++ 

   
   
It was always perfectly coordinated. The street was as busy as usual with people going on about their business; suits, jeans, shorts, jerseys, vests, tank tops, they all mixed with the guards’ clothes. No one noticed a pattern except for Ronon.  
   
Checking his watch, Ronon counted the moments until the second guard rounded the corner.  
   
Five seconds.  
   
That was how long the front of the large warehouse-like building stayed unguarded. The second scout walked through the same path and disappeared in the alley only to be followed by a third one five seconds later.  
   
It was all down to timing. Looking up at the graying sky, Ronon crouched behind the alley and waited.  
   
Ronon felt in the air the imminent deluge of water just seconds before it started pouring. Standing up, he slipped the hood of his sweat shirt over his head. Ronon hid behind the corner, fingers gripping the 9mil hiding in its pocket as he waited for the right moment to run across the street.  
   
Ronon slipped through the alleyway between buildings just a little behind the first guard and just a second away from being spotted by the second sentinel. He stepped carefully on the dry ground by the edge of the wall and approached the guard from behind, the rain unnecessarily camouflaging any noise. Just as the man was about to round another corner, Ronon jumped on him from behind and hit the back of his head with the butt of the gun. The man dropped immediately and was caught by Ronon before he hit the ground.  
   
He left the body behind the corner between buildings and waited against the wall, counting the seconds before the second guard showed up. He did just on schedule and had the same fate as the first one. Ronon then did the same with the third sentinel, leaving the three men cuffed, one under the camera and the other two away from immediate sight behind the curve of the wall.  
   
Figuring he would only have a few seconds until the lack of movement triggered any alarms on the men watching the security cameras, Ronon hurried back and waited around the corner. He wasn’t sure of how long it took for the images to rotate in the screens of the monitoring room, so Ronon stayed ready, gun firm against his palm.  
   
It took a full minute until Ronon heard the locking mechanism of the door opening and one single set of footsteps coming out. It was coming right towards the body left on sight. Ronon coiled and waited until the man knelt to check for a pulse.  
   
He placed his gun against the man’s temple. “Don’t move.”  
   
The man froze on spot slowly raising his hands. Ronon walked around him and stood behind, blacking him out the in the same way he had done to the others. He took his security pass, his gun with the silencer and the yellow raincoat he was wearing, putting it on before he walked into the building.  
   
The corridor inside was poorly lit, but Ronon didn’t need lights to know where the door was. He rounded the first corner to the right then used the security card on the first door.  
   
“So, what was it?”  
   
Ronon shot only once with the silenced gun before the guy had time to recognize Ronon wasn’t the man he had been waiting for. The man dropped on the floor, a single dot of red in the middle of his chest quickly spreading to a large smear.  
   
Ronon walked towards the screens, the rotating cameras going around each room of the building. He saw Sheppard sprawled on a mattress on the floor of a small room then the image switched to reveal her. He watched it for a few seconds then shot the computer at least five times, shutting down all the cameras on the building. He walked out of the room and saw all the lights coming down as well. He waited a couple of seconds until the emergency lights came on then proceeded ahead. He had a plan and he was going to follow it.  
   
Ronon knew he had triggered the alarm and prepared for the swarm of men that were most probably coming to protect the exit and check the monitoring room. Ronon climbed down the stairs then heard several footsteps coming towards his direction.  
   
He looked left and right, seeing no doors on the narrow corridor or any other place for him to hide. He retreated back up and checked the other identical corridor. The only other door besides the one to the monitoring room was one that would take him to the loading area, but he was sure it was locked under a pass which only the chief of security would have. He checked it just to be sure and growled at the flashing red light.  
   
He went back to the monitoring room and took cover by the doorway, waiting for the approaching footsteps.  
 

+++++++++++++++ 

   
John scratched his wrists while he watched the walls of the room, trying to figure out their color and shape. He chased the dark patches on the corner of his eyes but they always faded and were replaced with bright colors. He spun his head around and noticed it moved faster than it should. The sensation was pleasant, but he wished it would make the disturbing images fade.  
   
He saw a dark spot move and squinted to see it, jumping back when a green face sneered back at him, slits on its cheeks, with yellow eyes and long white hair. Soon, another one joined. John scrambled upwards then tilted his head around the figures to see where they had come from. He still only saw four walls and stepped back when he saw more friends coming right through it.  
   
John imagined he should do something about it, but couldn’t see a way to fight off all the aliens. They seemed to be leaving him alone, so he just stepped back until his back hit wall. Wasn’t he supposed to fight? John didn’t remember what he had been doing before the room appeared around him. Maybe the aliens had put him there.  
   
As soon as the thought crossed his mind John walked away from the wall and towards them. He closed his fists and lunged to punch the closest and ugliest of them all, but soon found himself staring at a spinning wheel, his back flat on the floor. Maybe it was a Ferris wheel. John almost grinned, but remembered he was supposed to be fighting an alien invasion in his bedroom.  
   
Was this his bedroom?  
   
John shook his head and stood again, but all the aliens were gone. The wall they had passed through was still just a wall. He would say it was blank, but it was now looking a little pink. Maybe it was one of those inks that changed color when he touched it. He stepped forward to touch it, confusion scrambling his brain when he noticed the floor under his nose.  
   
Had he fallen?  
   
John turned around and saw that the Ferris wheel was still at the ceiling. He decided to stare at it for a while until his nose stopped hurting. The wheel stopped then was replaced by snakes. John jostled backwards, vision graying when his head hit something hard behind.  
   
When his sight cleared again, John stared wide eyed at the man looking curiously down at him. The snakes came from the man's head, some dangling down and others tangling around his neck. They didn’t hiss or make any sound, but they seemed to be snarling. The man came closer and a serpent almost hit John in the eye. John scuttled away with his back still at the floor, breath hitching.  
   
The man spoke, but all John heard was a rush in his ears. One snake was coming down the guy’s arm, wrapping itself as it grew and extended away from it. John backed away to another wall as the hand approached and the serpent began to twist around John’s chest. John heaved for air when it tightened and started crushing his ribs.   
   
There was a voice near John’s ear, but John didn’t obey it. The cold scales slid through his body, constricting his chest and making breathing more and more difficult. His fingers started tingling then his head felt heavy and slid down the wall. He tried keeping his eyes open, but the snake just kept pressing until John gave in to sleep.  
   
He was jostled awake by the snake man. John tried crawling backwards but realized he was already at the corner and couldn’t run. Snake man stepped back and stayed away, his serpents shrinking until they were small brown vermin on his head.  
   
"Hey, Sheppard, calm down. It’s me. Ronon."  
   
John narrowed his eyes as the man's features melted and faded until they resembled a person's face. "Ronon?"  
   
Ronon nodded, his snakes starting to grow again. John's breathing hitched then slowed down again when Ronon took another step back.

"Is this far okay?"  
   
John nodded. He glanced around and noticed the room was still not letting any color stick to the walls. John tried to remember what had happened.  
   
"There… there were people here."  
   
"Yeah," Ronon responded.  
   
"They… were people?"  
   
"They were just people, Sheppard."  
   
"Okay."  
   
John sat and leaned his head back. If Ronon said they had been just people, then John believed him. Ronon had never lied to him. John looked up to watch the Ferris wheel, but noticed it was gone. The ceiling looked less colorful and was almost gray and dull. He glanced back down at Ronon. The vermin were just hair now.  
   
He sighed and looked up. "Sorry," John whispered.  
   
"No need to apologize."  
   
Rubbing a hand over his face, John noticed a thin sheen of sweat. His hand was shaking slightly. His eyes started to become heavy. John tried to resist but they still fell close despite his best efforts.  
   
They snapped open when he heard the shuffling close to him. Ronon was now sitting beside him.  
   
"You're coming down," Ronon said. "How many doses did they give you?" he asked after a while.  
   
John started to remember talking to the Queen and the injection he had received. "I only remember one right after they brought me here."  
   
"It's the Izme. The effects can be disturbing and last a whole day. Then afterwards it drains you out from the lack of food and sleep."  
   
John nodded as his eyelids drooped. "Don't wanna sleep," he whispered.  
   
"I'll be right here."  
   
John fought for a few more seconds but soon figured it was a losing battle and let go.  
 

+++++++++++++++ 

   
 _"I want to see her."  
   
The loud metal bang echoed in the corridor when the men dropped the box. Kell turned around.  
   
"You don't dictate the rules." He stared, his eyes darker in the low illumination.  
   
It was a challenge. Ronon stared back.  
   
"Do you have a date?"  
   
Ronon stepped forward and stood an inch away from Kell's face. "Yeah. Tomorrow."  
   
"Tomorrow it is." Kell turned around and continued walking down the corridor, his men following with the cargo. _  
 

+++++++++++++++ 

   
Ronon heard the distant noise of gun fire. He bolted upwards and walked closer to the door, pressing his ear against it. He heard far-away undistinguished shouts and yells, followed by semi-automatic fire mixed with automatic rifles' shots.  
   
Ronon hurried back to Sheppard's side and shook him slightly. He had been sleeping for about three hours and Ronon just hoped it was enough.  
   
"C'mon, Sheppard. Wake up."  
   
Bleary eyes blinked a few times until they focused on Ronon.  
   
"Hey, buddy, time to get out of here."  
   
Sheppard looked confused for a few moments, his head moving to observe their surroundings. They cleared after they set back on Ronon, then went to full on awake when another round of gun fire came, this time louder.  
   
Ronon helped Sheppard up and made sure he was standing on his own before he let go. Sheppard held the wall, but appeared to be sustaining himself just fine. The Izme made people slow and exhausted the next day, but Ronon also knew that adrenalin had a way of sharpening people's reflexes.  
   
After feeling around his head, Ronon extracted a long thin knife from inside on of his dreadlocks. Sheppard eyed him as if he was back on drugs then raised an eyebrow of approval.  
   
Ronon knew that kicking the heavy door open wouldn't work, so he resorted to picking the lock. It wasn't his area of expertise, but he had watched guys doing it enough times to know a few tricks. It wasn't hard; the door had been designed to just keep junkies inside.  
   
The corridor beyond was predictably empty. Ronon stayed on his guard and followed right, Sheppard closely behind him. He gripped the knife along his wrist, ready to lunge at the first target that appeared on his way. The noises of battle were dying off, sign that one side was prevailing over the other.  
   
He approached the stairs then froze when he heard the shuffling of people climbing toward them. Several steps, maybe five people. Ronon stepped back quickly and hid behind a corner in the corridor, Sheppard covering the other side. Ronon noticed the coiled stance, the dark smudges under Sheppard's eyes in sharp contrast to his adrenalin fueled posture. Sheppard controlled his labored breath, silence taking over their position.  
   
The steps trotted up then forward, the soft brushing of clothing working as the clues Ronon needed in order to know how many were on each side of the corridor. He nodded at Sheppard and got another sharp one in return. They both jumped out of hiding and grabbed the first two men, the 9mils they had been holding clattering on the floor.  
   
Ronon twisted the arm he was holding and shifted his weight, tackling the man's chest and throwing him against the other one. Both men fell and Ronon took that opportunity to focus on the third one lunging against Sheppard. Ronon gripped the attacker's neck and made his body lose momentum and fall. Ronon directed the fall so he would crash on his back then kicked his head to knock him out.  
   
Out of the corner of his eye, Ronon saw the smudge of a fist and reacted instinctively to get out of its way. He blocked and bent his head backward to avoid another punch then came up behind him, gripping the man's hair and banging his head against the wall. There was a crack and the men fell to the floor.  
   
Sheppard was barely holding his own against a bigger opponent. Ronon lowered his head and tackled the assailant's back using the shoulders when he noticed a gun coming up. The man toppled away and lost the weapon, but quickly regained balance and changed the stance to hand to hand combat.  
   
Ronon threw in a fist that was avoided by the guy, but rounded him from behind and managed to block the kick on his midsection. The man stepped away then aimed for another kick. Ronon blocked and kicked back, the man's leg hitting his own and preventing the hit from passing through. Ronon blocked a series of strikes, feeling the man's style. When he opened his left side for another kick, Ronon stepped forward to one side and elbowed him under the armpits then came up behind and kicked his knees. The man lost balance and Ronon finished by hitting his head against the wall.  
   
He looked at Sheppard who was still breathing hard leaned against the wall.

"I could have taken him, you know. If I wasn't--"  
   
Ronon smiled. "Yeah, right."  
   
Sheppard pushed himself away from the wall. "I could have."  
   
"C'mon."  
   
Ronon picked up a couple of guns and trotted down the stairs, stopping at the last step to hear the corridor on each side. When only silence reached his ears, Ronon continued, making way to the general direction the fire fight was taking place.  
   
He climbed up the last set of stairs when he saw a man turning on a corner, running away from a volley of bullets crossing the corridor. Ronon raced towards him, rage rushing in his veins. He jumped through the intersection the corridors made, ignoring the bullets that buzzed through his ears when he did so.  
   
"KELL!" Ronon yelled.  
 

+++++++++++++++ 

   
 _Ronon limped inside the dark corridor, the fizzling lights flickering above as sparks flew from the lamps. He left a trail of blood drops dripping from his fingers, his arm useless next to his body. He dragged his right foot, pain slowing him down, but not enough to make him stop.  
   
He wouldn't stop. Not until he killed Kell.  
   
Tears flooded in his eyes. They blurred his sight so he let them fall to be able to see the path ahead.  
   
The image of her enveloped by flames was still burned behind his eyes.  
   
It would always be.  
   
Ronon heard the loud whine of sirens and the horn of fire trucks outside just arriving at the scene. The explosion had been big enough to send part of the wall away, but not enough to kill him. It had only killed her.  
   
Ronon growled at the top of his lungs, pain, fury and rage mixed together as he called his name. _

_"KELL!"  
   
The last time he saw him was when a tall and thin blond woman opened the back door of her black SUV and let him in. Ronon knew her. She was the leader of the Wraith. _  
 

+++++++++++++++ 

   
Blood rushed in his ears as he raced. Kell was a smudge of black growing bigger by the second. Ronon slid around corners, jumped in front of open doors and crossed rooms full of chemicals. The only noise he heard was of his hard breathing and the only sensations he felt were of the hammer in his chest and the burn all over his skin.  
   
He had worked hard to get in deep enough to reach her. Ronon knew that being picked up by the Queen herself had to mean Kell had become a big fish. Ronon had always been sure he would have the opportunity to kill him if he knew where she was.  
   
Now that was it. He leaped over a table, making papers fly and glass chatter to the ground. Kell rolled on the floor several times until Ronon came up on top. Ronon punched Kell's face a couple of times yelling in fury, blood spilling out of Kell's nostrils. Kell kicked from underneath Ronon but he stayed put, red rage taking over his arms as he continued to beat him blow after blow. Ronon yanked his face up, a bloodied sneer taking over Kell's face when he pulled a gun. Ronon held it as Kell started firing, the bullets impacting vials and sending colored liquids flying away.  
   
Ronon twisted his hand, but Kell was strong and fought back. The barrel started coming Ronon's way, almost scraping his chest. Ronon squeezed the trigger as he continued to bend Kells's arm, counting each bullet. His arm shook with the strain and Ronon let go when the click of an empty clip echoed in the lab. He used the momentum of Kell's hand to force the gun into his face, breaking a tooth which was spit to Ronon's face. The gun fell away from Kell's hand and clattered away.  
   
Kell's hand came up to grasp Ronon's face but he turned away and gripped it, forcing the thumb back until it cracked. Kell cried out in pain and Ronon used the moment of distraction to butt his head against Kell's then went back to smashing his face with fists, only stopping when another hand held his arm.  
   
Ronon looked up and saw Sheppard's eyes lock with his own, then looked back down and saw Kell's dead eyes staring back at him, his face a bloodied mess that matched Ronon's fists.  
   
Ronon stood up on unsteady legs swayed for a moment but locked his knees not to fall. That was when he felt his hot face and the wet trails crossing down his cheeks. He swallowed and looked up, allowing himself a moment before it all came down to him.  
   
It was all finally over.  
 

+++++++++++++++ 

   
John knocked on the wooden door of the loft three times and waited. He turned around, taking his time to admire the view of the white sand meeting grass and the clear blue sky. The day was warmer than it had been during the whole spring, an announcement to the hotter days of summer that would soon come. He heard the door creek open and turned around to face Ronon.

"Hey."  
   
"Hey."  
   
Ronon's face was the same one it had ever been except for the small healing bruises. The only thing that had changed were the eyes. They looked brighter for some reason and Ronon's shoulders weren't as tense as they had always been before. Ronon stepped back and let John in.  
   
"So, uh, how's it going?" John started.  
   
Ronon shrugged. "Okay."  
   
"Okay okay, or so-so okay?"  
   
John smiled when he heard Ronon's chuckle.  
   
"Okay."  
   
John looked down at the floor. He had never been good with figuring out people's feelings. He figured Ronon wouldn't be open about what happened, which was fine by John, but it still made him awkward. Especially since there were people asking questions about what that had been. People that needed proof that Ronon was a reliable source besides the ton of drugs that had been found, the close to twenty arrests including the Queen and the dismantle of the whole Wraith operation.  
   
"How is the trial going to go?" Ronon asked after a few seconds.  
   
John looked up. "Uh, thanks to you, the Queen is facing some very big charges and doesn't seem like she will ever see the light of day again." John smiled. "Thanks. And uh…" He cleared his throat. "Thanks for what you did."  
   
"You already thanked me," he said bluntly.  
   
"Yes, I know, it's just, uh…" He rubbed the back of his head. "They wouldn't have found me if it wasn't… if it hadn't been for you."  
   
Ronon looked down briefly then back up. "You'd have done it for me."  
   
John nodded, a little of the weight vanishing from his back. "Yeah, I would."  
   
"McKay and, uh, Teyla…" Ronon smiled slightly. "They wouldn't have given up."  
   
John smiled. "Yeah, they wouldn’t."  
   
"You okay? No side effects?"  
   
John shook his head. "I was just a little light headed and moody for a couple of days, but it's gone now. And I don't feel like taking another shot, which is also a very good thing." John looked at Ronon's eyes. "What about you?"  
   
He looked down. "I…" He faced John. "I know you're wondering about…"  
   
"You don't have to explain it." John shook his head.  
   
"I don't want you to think I went after you only to find Kell."  
   
John smiled. "I know you didn't."  
   
But he still wondered what he had done to make Ronon go through so much rage. John also wasn't sure if he should know.  
   
"I wanted to ask you something," Ronon said.  
   
John perked up. "Anything."  
   
"I'm not sure if you can, but…"  
   
John smiled. "I think we have some leeway after everything that happened with the Wraith."  
   
Ronon nodded. "I wanted to stay here in this place. If that's all right."  
   
John shot an eyebrow up. "Uh, okay." He chuckled. "No problem. If you really like it then it's yours. I'll take care of it."  
   
Ronon's smile reached his ears. "Yeah, I really like it. It reminds me of my family." He turned and looked outside the window.  
   
John nodded. "All right."  
   
Ronon looked back inside with a smirk that made John brace himself for whatever the big guy was thinking. "Do you like surfing?"  
   
John smirked back. "Is that a challenge?"  
 

**The End**


End file.
